AWF: Warzone, 09/06/05

Having a quiet drink with Terry Gene Bollea.
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AWF: Warzone, 09/06/05

Post by AWF_Warzone » Fri Jun 10, 2005 6:20 am

*Ok I know it's been awhile and I am sorry for it taking this long to get a new show up, but hopefully it will all start going smoother soon. But for now, enjoy the show and please respond to it even if you aren't in it, we really do need to see some of you guys start participating again. Otherwise....Well we won't go there. Enjoy.*

Slipknot’s “Duality” begins as the opening credits for AWF Warzone begin to play. The credits finish and we are brought into a packed ????????????????. The fans go wild as the pyros explode on the stage to signal the beginning of the show.

With the end of the pyros on the stage the familiar sounds of “Megalomaniac” by Incubus begin and fill the arena as the boss makes his way out from the back.

Reilly struts down to the ring and with mic in hand begins the show.

Reilly: Welcome ladies and gentlemen to AWF Warzone. This is going to be a great show tonight. But let’s just get right down to business. As you all know at Archivemania 4 JFA and JHA officially retired. It was a hard thing to see them leave for the last time. But now it is time to move on and in the company’s best interests. I have decided to try and make each show unique. So today I am announcing that both Mayhem and Warzone will have their own set of announcers.

The crowd looks a little shocked by the comment but cheer anyways.

Reilly: That’s right. From this day forward Mayhem will have Flec and Styles and its frontmen with Cliffjumper being the ring announcer. And now for the new Warzone exclusive ring announcer…..Sixshot!

“Duality” begins again as Sixshot makes her way down to ringside and takes a place at the time table as the fans go crazy.

Reilly: Spiffy, and now for the new Warzone exclusive Announcers.

Cannibal Corpse’s “Pounded into Dust” begins as Shrapnel makes his way out of the back and onto the stage. Shrapnel stands at the top of the ramp looking smug with his fro looking as perfect as ever. He walks to the announce table and takes a seat.

Reilly: That’s right, your first announcer is Shrapnel. And now for his co-host.

The sounds of cannibal corpse is suddenly replaced by Spinal Tap’s “Bitch School” and the crowd goes nuts. The AWF’s resident drag queen comes out onto the stage and poses for the crowd as Reilly gives a bit of a grin at what is happening. After a few moments Auntie Slag goes to the announce table and takes a seat.

Reilly: Well with that out of the way I hope you all enjoy the show and now I will leave the show in the capable hands of Shrapnal and Auntie Slag.

With that Reilly exits the ring and heads to the back.

AS: Oh boy, it’s so great to be here. I can’t believe I am one of the new announcers and I get to be a team with the first ever AWF champion. This should be super.
SH: Oh bloody hell. I am out here with a flaming drag queen.
AS: Oh you don’t have to use such a hurtful tone and you know you love it.
SH: I don’t think I can handle this.
AS: Oh come now. I won’t bite….Unless you want me too.
SH: You stay away from me you ….you….whatever you are.
AS: Giggles Well how about we just get to our first match.
SH: Please do.

AWF Television Title:
Wolfang (C) Vs. Tempest

Auntie Slag: "We've got an absolute cracker coming up here Shraps me boy, so let's take it to the beautiful and ever so zany Sixy!"
Shrapnel: "Yer, what he said!"

Pistol Grip Pump by Rage Against The Machine starts up as the crowd boo heavily.

Sixshot: "The following contest is scheduled for one fall with a 15 minute time limit and is for the AWF Television Title! Introducing first, the challenger, from Mandurah, WA, Australia, he is the human bulldozer, he is Tempest!"

Tempest has some words with some of the fans at ringside as he makes his way into the ring. He looks like he's about to punch a fan until Dragontown by Alice Cooper fills the arena as the crowds booing changes to cheering.

Sixshot: "And his opponent, from St. Helens, Merseyside, England, he is the AWF Television Champion, he is Wolfang!"

'fang makes his way down the aisle as he slaps the hands with some fans at ringside. He gets into the ring and faces off with Tempest as the bell rings. They tie up but Tempest gets the upper hand with a snapmare takedown, he goes to follow up with a sleeper hold but Wolfang gets back to his feet quickly. Tempest goes to charge him but Wolfang gets him with an armdrag take down. 'fang holds on to the arm and follows up with an arm bar. Tempest tries to get up with Wolfang still attached to his arm...he musters up all his energy and lets out a giant roar as he lifts Wolfang from the mat to high up in the air and drops him flat on his back!

AS: "My god did you see that power! But both men are on the ground at the moment regaining their energy."
S: "Man I remember when the people in the AWF had endurance and weren't huffing and puffing in the first minute."

The ref's count makes it up to 4 before both men get back up onto their feet. They charge each other but Wolfang lunges at Tempest and takes him down, 'fang breaks out and starts unleashing lefts and rights. Tempest manages to roll him over and gives him a taste of his own medicine, Wolfang goes to roll Tempest over but they meet the ropes and the ref forces them to break it up.

AS: "It's all happening here for sure."
S: "Tempest up first and before 'fang can get up, Tempest kicks him while he's down! Good tactic that!"

Wolfang holds his stomach in pain after the kick he just received. Tempest pulls him up and hits a quick belly to back suplex.

AS: "Tempest is definitely in control at this point."
S: "Ya think? He goes to make the cover, one, two, but no! Tempest pulls him up! That a boy! Now he can dish out some more punishment!"
AS: "What a twit, he may have got a pinfall."
S: "Yeah but dishing out's so much better."

Tempest gets the champ back up to his feet and attempts a scoop slam, but Wolfang manages to squirm his way over the shoulders of Tempest. Briefly taken off guard, the time allows Wolfang to set up for the Deathstalker.

AS: "He signals for it...NAILS IT!"
S: "I bet he doesn't get the pin though."
AS: "The ref makes the count, one, two, Tempest kicks out with relative ease."
S: "What did I say?"
AS: "The champ looking to finish it off here, he's going for the figure four leg lock...wraps around the leg, Tempest reverses into a roll up! One, two! Oh Wolfang just manages to get the shoulder up! "
S: "We almost had a new champ there, if I was me, I would have made sure I pinned him."
AS: "I'll bet."

Wolfang springs back up making sure Tempest can't get the upper hand, he goes to clothesline the challenger but Tempest ducks and manages to execute a backbreaker. Not bothering with a pinfall attempt Tempest gets the champ back to his feet and lifts him above his head. Tempest shows off his power holding Wolfang above his head, before he drops him with a falling press slam.

AS: "Tempest the silly pillock still isn't going for the pin!"
S: "Yeah I hope he destroys him instead."

Tempest taunts the crowd by calling out for one more. So he pulls Wolfang back up, who's holding his stomach in pain by this point, and lifts him up over his head again, but this time, Wolfang manages to break free, he pushes Tempest into the ropes, and he comes back looking for a clothesline but the champ ducks and starts running, they dash towards each other and Wolfang drops Tempest with the Grey Hunter!

AS: "Did you see the velocity with which the Champ dropped Tempest? My god, he'd have to have whiplash! Wolfang keeps on keeping on here, he's got Tempest back up, and now it looks like he's going for a suplex, he's calling out for the Graveyard Run! 'fang gets him up, you have to admire the power there, just holding a man in the air like that..."
S: "Not really, besides, Tempests reverses! He grabs Wolfang from behind and just throws him backward onto his head for a devastating german suplex!"
AS: "The champ has gotta be in a world of hurt at the moment."

Tempest, looking determined to win the title, seems as if he wants to finish Wolfang off sooner rather than later. He grabs the fallen Wolfang and puts him between his legs. "Powerbomb!" Tempest goes to hoist 'fang up but Wolfang isn't moving at all. Wolfang lets out a groan as he uses all his energy to reverse the move and get Tempest in position for the Sideswipe. Wolfang walks around the ring and starts running in circles until he jumps high in the air and drops Tempest right on his head/upper body region.

AS: "Sideswipe by Wolfang! He dropped Tempest just like a sack of potatoes!"
S: "The idiot doesn't deserve to be the champion, he isn't even going for the cover."
AS: "'fang picks Tempest up and goes to send him to the ropes, but Tempest reverses!"
S: "SLAP! Did you hear Tempest's hand attaching to Wolfang's throat! Here we go! Chokeslam! It's the beginning of the end for the TV Champ!"
AS: "Wolfang looking in a bad way, now Tempest is taunting the crowd and he doesn't go for the cover either, and now he's calling for it, he's going for the Thunder Press."
S: "Finish him! Here he goes, Tempest gets him up..."
AS: "NO! CRIMSON TWILIGHT!!! Wolfang reversed the Thunder Press with the Crimson Twilight and Tempest is out cold! That can't be good for Tempest's neck. Did you see the snap back when he hit the mat?"
S: "It wasn't supposed to be like this!"
AS: "Wolfang now, goes for the cover, the ref makes the count, one...two...three! This one's all over!"

Dragontown by Alice Cooper plays for the second time today as Sixshot takes the mic.

Sixshot: "Your winner, via pinfall, and STILL AWF Television Champion...Wolfang!"

Wolfang grabs his title belt and makes his way back down the aisle to the backstage area, greeting some fans along the way.

Commercial Break featuring the best of GPA DVD

AS: And we are back. What a great match. Wolfang is so good don’t you think.
SH: Yeah whatever.
AS: Well our next match has some promise. We get another try at that Archivemania rematch between Blaster and King.
SH: Oh great. Just what I want to see.
AS: Well we had better get to it.

King vs. Blaster

Rob Zombie’s “More Than Human” explodes from the arena, and King struts down the ramp; smiling confidently.

AS: Oh my! It appears the fans don’t like this fellow much.
SH: Blimey imbeciles.






AS: What a cute young man!

Blaster starts to come down before King can even finish his entrance, successfully stealing the man’s thunder.

SH: And speaking of blimey imbeciles.
AS: You have an afro, dear. Mayhaps you shouldn’t criticize people?

Blaster hurries down to the ring, and snidely holds down the ropes for King to enter.

AS: Looks like the Blaster fellow has a strong distaste for King.
SH: I have a strong distaste for your mother!
AS: Now, dear, my mommy dearest wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.

The two men face off in the ring, and the ref signals for the bell, and the match begins. Blaster immediately gets in King’s face, and King starts shouting back at him. King steps back, and hits a knife edge chop. Blaster winces, and returns.

AS: Lordy, Lordy! I must say, I can never really get over how painful that looks!
SH: I hope they kill each other, stupid blokes.

After a few volleys of chops between the two, King grabs Y3B and whips him up – setting up a delayed vertical suplex. Blaster pivots, and drops back and uses the momentum to pull King up into the same position.

AS: Such dazzling aerobics! And look at that cute little rear on that Blaster fellow!
SH: Why did they choose you for this job? Blooming hell, I could do a better job on my own.

Blaster stomps his feet a few times, and hits a leg drop onto his fallen opponent. As he tries to roll up, King snatches at his ankle and trips up his opponent. He rolls onto him and locks in a headlock.

SH: Nice strategizing there!
AS: Attacking a fellow from behind?

Blaster manages to get to his feet, and bringing King with him, pulls him up and hits a back body drop. The fans approve as the tempo of the match improves, and Blaster pushes his advantage and tries to connect with a soundsault. King gets his knees up, however, and its obvious Blaster feels the hurt.

AS: Deary, Deary, Deary! That did look painful!
SH: Wow, aren’t you a dazzling wit?

King gets up, and starts waving his hand about in the air, signaling for the Ironclaw.

AS: Looks like he’s setting up for the first of his set of moves, a chokeslam!

Blaster gets up and tries to escape, but he can’t get away fast enough. King connects with the Ironclaw.

AS: Well, I suppose that means the Divebomb is next, then, doesn’t it?
SH: What? The intercontinental champion is making an appearance?
AS: No, you silly duckling! That’s what he calls the next move!
SH: Well, that’s bloody stupid.

King waves his arm about, signaling for his clothesline from hell. This time, though, when Blaster gets up, he easily ducks the clothesline and counters into a small package. The ref makes the count…




AS: Well, that’s what this King fellow gets for being so predictable!
SH: He did damn well publish what he was going to do next.
AS: A nice clean win for Y3B! but guess what.
SH: I don’t care
AS: Just guess.
SH: You are leaving and I will be hosting this show by myself.
AS: No. It’s our next match, Auros v. D-Extreme.
SH: Two tag wrestlers?
AS: Yup and it should be good considering the history between the two teams.
SH: Who bloody cares just get on with it.

Auros v. D-Extreme

Space. The Final Frontier…

These are the voyages of [/snip].

Ahem. For many years now, scientists have been attempting to cover up the existence of giant blood-sucking space bats. Their hypothesis was simple:

Can we make people so dumb that they will fail to care about the existence of giant space bats?

Their first attempt resulted in the televisual delights of ‘Married: With Children’ and soon after, ‘American Gladiators’. The Government was intrigued.
The study involved many years of analysis and refinement. Luckily many years are exactly the time it took for the Space Bats to make their journey from Pretzel IV (beyond the fringe), to our beloved solar system. The scientists beavered away. The beavers scienced away and eventually the two produced the stunning aural, oral and anal feast that is…


Earth would never be the same again.

It is the year 2005. The Evil Deceptico- [/snip].

Now the first space bat lands atop the head of a long-time, blissfully ignorant AWF fan-generic. Secret cameras watch. Not one person notices. The Government breathes a sigh. The bats and the fans are union, wanting the same thing:




Like a million El Chupinebrae’s they howl.

And here at last is their master’s call.

“Aaaarrrgh! Border Guards”!

‘F****ing in the Bushes’ crashes onto the sound system as the only knighted wrestler in the AWF makes a desperate dash down the aisle, his tablecloth cape billowing behind him. Sir Auros slides in under the ropes, rolls quickly and glances back up the aisle as two burly AWF officials hold back the American border guards intent on doing heinous things to everyone’s favorite illegal immigrant.

Auntie Slag: “What a seamless segue”!
Shrapnel: “I don’t care”.
Auntie Slag: “Fine, but I simply must award points for Sir A’s attire. He is indeed as brave or as stupid as they say”.

As the AWF officials pummel two of Bush’s finest, Sir Auros leaps about the ring growling menacingly and pronouncing things in a language no one can be bothered to understand.

Auntie Slag: “I can’t be bothered to understand”
Shrapnel: “And I still don’t care”

The sun sets, and two full moons appear in the sky. Luke looks through his binoculars and realizes the large form of that Bantha animal-thing with the horns. Silently he leaps into his landspeeder and roars off, comfortable in the knowledge that his three films are the best. Meanwhile on earth, Oasis stop f***ing in the bushes long enough for the roar of the crowd to drown out the bats sucking people dry. Suddenly a time distortion field reveals itself above the ring, but because its not very impressive looking compared to today’s stunning CG effects, no one pays attention.

Auntie Slag: “I wouldn’t be seen dead going through a time distortion field that naff looking”.
Shrapnel: “I’m sorry? I wasn’t paying attention”.

Even less suddenly, Sir Auros’ challenger trundles through the entranceway to the tune of ‘Comfort Eagle’ by Cake. Evidently Demeritus Extremitus is too lazy bother finding his own entrance music and instead has settled upon the tag-team tune known so well to the three people reading this.

Shrapnel: “Well, would you look at that”!
Auntie Slag: “Indeed I will, and I shall explain it to give the narrative a rest. For you see dear listener, I turn and I view D-Extreme coming up fast behind me (Oo-er), seated in a plush couch bedecked with wheels of motorization! He appears slouched, as is his way, and atop his head rests a cap bearing some arcane language. Many cans are strewn about his person and there appears to be a steering wheel built rather cunningly into the seat”!
Shrapnel: “Indeed, and it appears this vehicle would be traveling at a far greater velocity were it not for the anchor-like and clearly unconscious Ignavus being pulled along by the larger of his testicles, attached at length to the rear of the couch in a most workmanlike manner by what I can only identify as string or bailing twine”.
Auntie Slag: “Indeed”.

Slowly as if coming out of a daze, D-Extreme outfits himself with an open-faced helmet. As he slings a backpack over his shoulders a delirious Erik Summers bursts through the entranceway bearing a flamethrower. D-Ex listens for the confirming click of the backpack around his waist and flips open a secret compartment on the arm of the couch revealing a glorious red button.

Shrapnel: “No! Not the red button”!

He pushes it, and is ejected high into the air with a force akin to pulverizing a fluffy bunny between the strong, masticating jaws of an elephant.

Auntie Slag: “One with a cute, fluffy little tail”

The rabbit, not the elephant.

Auntie Slag: “Of course”.

D-Extreme ascends into the sky like a sobering rocket. At the top of his arc he brushes his fingers across the ceiling of the stadium with a sigh and a smile. From now until the flash floods of 2006, his will be the only fingerprints in such an unreachable, exclusive area.

And then he drops like a stone, a very large and sobering stone. Calmly he pulls the ripcord. Nothing happens.

Serenely, he pulls the emergency cord. Nothing happens.

A smarter man would know that now is the time to die. Not so D-Extreme, master of the Megalithic. As the fans look up in horror, D recites his favorite ditty:

D-Extreme: “The taste is reeeeal it’s Miller Lite, It goes down cleeean its Miller Lite, and It’s my babyyy it’s Miller Lite. It ain’t heavy it’s… Miller Lite”!

Far below the stoned temple pilot, Summers sets light to the couch inciting people to gather around Igz’ nuts to toast marshmallows. In the ring, Sir Auros stands motionless. A rather D-Ex-like shadow begins to form across him and looking up into the gathering darkness the mangy Mexican motions the crucifixion whilst mouthing un-monosyllabically:

Sir Auros: “Commadore amiga tequila Los Lobos”


D-Extreme plummets onto the unfortunate Auros and straight through the ring floor! Smash after smash rings out as the two careen through poorly constructed floors of cheap wooden slats, finally coming to rest amidst a gathering of dust and chipboard not seven, count ‘em, SEVEN floors down. Their souls are broken.

Shrapnel: “Wow! I’ve seen wrestlers plummet through five, maybe six poorly constructed floors before, but never seven”.
Auntie Slag: “Truly this is a high watermark in negligent carpentry”.

EMT’s are quickly dispensed to the murky scene below but they hold back as the Janitor from three matches ago completes the perilous task of sweeping away the dust. As the mire dispenses and the chipmunks and the woodchucks who could chuck wood if there was enough of them to chuck wood slowly go about their business, the blackened, bludgeoned bodies of D-Extreme and Sir Auros reveal themselves to be the stout-hearted, robust roustabouts we always knew them to be. Though pudgy, knarled and cut to ribbons, both men shakily signal their willingness to fight on!

Auntie Slag: “Incredible! Have you ever seen anything like it”?
Shrapnel: “Well technically neither one has thrown a punch yet, and the bell hasn’t even rung. This is all meaningless padding”.
Auntie Slag: “But such marvelously descriptive padding. That’s the important thing”.
Shrapnel: “Yes, particularly at the expense of any real wrestling. This is what happens when you hire the weekend staff”.
Auntie Slag: “But the payment comes in entertaining and making people happy”.
Shrapnel: “Do you see anyone smiling here”?
Auntie Slag: “Good point. The fight is below. We desperately need to stop the regulars from thinking or else our covers blown”.
Shrapnel: “Initiating emergency procedure 7-10 split…”

At the press of a button an electronic signal speeds its way to Reilly’s office where the Commish, sitting before a large oval table addresses the room:

Reilly: “Computer, select the most appropriate operative for this mission”
Computer: “Mission parameters deduce the most effective person for this mission is Sixshot, in lycra and spandex”.
Reilly: “Proceed”.

In an undisclosed location, Sixshot’s watch emits a signal for action. Quickly she charges from backstage, discarding her cheap plastic Mask with the uncanny ability to levitate bad guys. Sprinting down the aisle to the near demolished ring, she slides in letting all cameras pan around her lycra-clad body.

Auntie Slag: “Ooooh, shiny”.
Shrapnel: “This match has definitely taken a turn for the better”.
Auntie Slag: “So very very figure hugging”.

The audience drools. The bats drool. Ratings figures leap to an unprecedented high in the AWF’s four year history. It is a red-letter day in the field of cheap entertainment.

Ignavus: “Cheap”!

He falls unconscious again.

Meanwhile seven floors down the combatants are knocking seven bells out each other before the very eyes of seven brides and seven brothers, not to mention Morgan Freeman, Brad Pitt and Kevin Spacey, although what they’re doing down there is anyone’s guess. Seven seconds away Yousson’ Dour is about to start another concert, totally unaware of the flying head-lock Sir Auros is about to impinge upon D-Ex’s brain holder, whose still seeing yellow canaries circling.

Auntie Slag: “Seven seems to be the prominent number today”.
Shrapnel: “Shut up and look at the fit woman”.

Grunting like a rhino in heat, D hauls the combined weight of his own muscular form and that of Sir Auros over and into two of the seven brothers, thus breaking the hold. Gasping for breath, D-Ex is then confronted by Brad who smugly addresses him:

Brad: “I want you to hit me as hard as you can”.

With no thought for their own personal safety, everyone in that scene (including the EMT’s), pound Brad with baby seals until he drops to a B-lister. Satisfied, D-Extreme then hefts Auros to a standing position and proceeds to bitchslap him repeatedly.

Auntie Slag: “Oh the humanity”.
Shrapnel: “She’s got the kind of thighs you could suck on for a day”.

Suddenly Auros counters by running away. Astounded, D plods after him. The pursuit takes them up several floors until, predictably, they arrive back in the ring. Sixshot leaves and the crowd boos. They hurl cheap derivative beer cans at the two Neanderthals, D drinks them whilst Sir Auros smacks a few off D’s head in an effort to get his attention.

Shrapnel: “Aaah, that was an image that will linger in my mind”
Auntie Slag: “Yes, at least until the votes for the match of the year are in”.
Shrapnel: *Coughs*.
Auntie Slag: *Nods*.

Despite the now obligatory blood pouring from his face, D-Extreme lumbers toward his adversary and together the two get down to it. In any other situation they could be misconstrued as lovers, but in the squared circle of the AWF it is naught but Mortal Kombat. Below them Slag and Shrapnel feverishly bash buttons on their joypads to execute the finisher. Unfortunately there is no respite. The hotdogs go on.

Slam! Auros lands a textbook spinebuster, then floats over for a three count, but gets only 1.5. D-Extreme puffs his way to a vertical stance, takes a firm hold of Auros, lifts the struggling hombre over his head and ploughs him into the turnbuckle to shatter 27 of Auros’ vertebrae. Stunningly, and with a heart like someone with two hearts (living in just one mind?), Sir Auros counters again, only THIS time he does it by fumbling about under the ring until he pulls out a hard copy of his lesson plans conforming to the INTASC principles. He waffles D-Extreme over the head with them. The big man begins to sway in the breeze.

Auntie Slag: “Good lord, I do believe Sir Auros is making some headway. If he manages to get one more shot in, this could be over”!

Making good on his opportunity, Auros discards the lesson plans and fishes around under the ring for his copy of Dreamweaver! The crowd screams, it’s almost too much to bear. With art-teacher-like precision, El Chingador fashions the Dreamweaver box (complete with heavy manual) into a very sharp-edged instrument of boxy death. He throws it at his nemesis with Daredevil precision. The box snaps off D’s bounce and returns to Auros’ hand like an obedient and well-honed piece of software.

Shrapnel: “Oh no, the blood, the violence. This could all end in bloody violent tears”.

The Extreme one lumbers wearily toward Auros, who again takes aim, this time for the final victory.

Sir Auros: “Say goodniiight, Gringo”.

And then, a single lonely thought enters D’s mind. It is perhaps the only thought to have ever entered his mind. Nevertheless it is both earth-shatteringly obvious and match changingly-important, and it is this:

D-Extreme: “Wait a minute. No-one owns a genuine copy of Dreamweaver”.

Complete silence. Auros looks into D’s eyes and in that moment the Dreamweaver box disappears into thin air.

Auntie Slag: “It’s like it been erased”
Shrapnel: “Erased, from existence”!

Auros is shocked beyond belief. D-Extreme rams his fist into the Mexican’s mouth, shattering his tongue (yes, his tongue). Sir A’s world turns dark as the mighty D hammers blow after blow off the top of his skull, unyielding and unrelenting like a piledriver and perpetual motion device rolled into one, a Transformer if you will.
The beating is incredible, it is also completely unnecessary like at least two-thirds of this match. Chair whips, body crunches, Chinese burns, Van Daminators, Tombstones, Hot Rocks, surface-to-air missiles…. EVERYTHING is thrown at the body of Sir Auros until finally…

Until finally…

He drops.

The crowd erupts, D-Extreme smiles bloodily and waves away a bat. From the very brink of unconsciousness Sir Auros drags his battered, broken body to the ring edge where his stablemates are looking on.

Sir Auros: “Uurrrrr help me Soundwave. I mean, Lock”.
Lock: “Not likely. All you care about these days are the kids, when it should be about ME, I mean, us. Children mean nothing. Its Murder Inc. not Degrassi Junior High. Make your choice”.
Sir Auros: “Tell me you don’t…. mean that”.
Lock: I’m sorry Sir A, I didn’t know how to tell you this but… I never wanted children”
Sir Auros: “Nooooooooooooo…”
Lock: “Actually that was quite easy to say. How about that! Anyway, I’ve had enough of your sour defeats. You’re a liability to the team and you’re a liability to the game. You’re off my roster Auros, maybe next time you’ll learn to buy originals and support the development of serious business software”.
Wild One (to Lock): “That was pretty harsh, Big L”.
Lock: “I tell you Wild One, nothing annoys me more than people taking a good Springsteen song like Murder Inc. and not living up to it’s strong, desolate small town ways. The AWF isn’t a place for sissy’s son, it’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap, we’ve gotta get out while were young, Cuz Wendy tramps like us, BABY WE WERE BORN TO RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN”.
Wild One: “I’m not Wendy”.
Lock: “Shut up and air guitar”.

Lock, Wendy and Morpheus air-guitar together. Sir Auros remains crushed behind them.

Auntie Slag: “What a mess! Looks like I’m gonna have to put on some plastic gloves for a legitimate reason this time”.
Shrapnel: “Hold that thought, Slag. Look, up there at the entrance. Is it a joker? Is it a penguin”?
Auntie Slag: “No! It’s a Scarecrow”!

Young rising star Scarecrow bounds down the aisle, gaily leaping over the unconscious Ignavus and the marshmallow party. He springs into the air, over the ropes and lands feet first onto D-Extreme, decking him. Sir Auros looks toward the proud warrior like as if he is his salvation, his shining light, his P2P connection that really is Ep III and not pRon.

How wrong he is.

No sooner has Scarecrow landed than he is apologizing to D-Extreme and placing a discarded beer can in his hand. With a sick grin he pulls out a cross and a gun (luckily a replica gun), and barks to Sir Auros:

Auntie Slag: “Seven times”?
Shrapnel: “Why is he shouting”?
Auntie Slag: “Dramatic effect”.
Shrapnel: “Debatable…”
Sir Auros: “No, ees not mee. Eet ees the space bats”!
Scarecrow: “SILENCE”!
Lock: “I like him, he’s good”.

With no more hesitation or dramatic pauses, Scarecrow before the eyes of millions fearlessly performs the most unbelievable spinning DDT on the helpless Sir Auros, unquestionably ending his career for today and maybe the rest of the week.

Shrapnel: “FATALITY”!

Auntie Slag rings the bell and the stadium erupts in cheer. D-Extreme has achieved yet another victory, though he is unaware of that fact, being either unconscious or just asleep. EMT’s hurriedly gather up Sir Auros and his lesson plans for extradition.

Lock: “A great and fortuitous thing has happened here this day. I have ejected a disciple…

Scarecrow comes down from the ring to join the three men.

Lock: “… and my tape of ‘From Dusk Till Dawn’ has worn out”.
Scarecrow: “Never fear, oh Antipodean authority of all things Springsteen. I have the film on DVD, and it is good”!!!
Lock: “Wait just a minute… you have the film… and I’m down one wrestler…. Hmmm”.
Wild One: “I’ve got it! Scarecrow, you can join us”!
Scarecrow: “What do you mean”?
Lock: “He means become a part of Murder Inc”.
Scarecrow: “Oh right. I thought you meant in some sort of Gestalt way, which as far as I’m aware only toys can do”.
Lock: “No you misinterpret, young Scarecrow. Join us, join Murder Inc. and together with our combined powers we will rule the Univerrrrrrrse”!
All: “Yeah”!
Lock: “Fooor the spaaace cruiiiiiiser”!
Wild One: “You mean your RV”?
Lock: “Yes”.

And so we leave our intrepid heroes. A Serial Slacka has won this night, education has been vanquished, and a team’s stats have increased slightly. Life continues for those who play the risky roulette wheel that is… AWF Warzone!

There is a slight delay in schedule as the ring is replaced. A call is placed to Sixshot, who appears post haste, and the stadium erupts once more.

Commercial Break featuring early adds for the next AWF PPV.

AS: What an interesting match. Murder Inc. tosses out Auros and adds Scarecrow.
SH: Might work.
AS: Only time will tell.


We see Sixswitch making his way out to the ring area, when he bumps into Erik Summers.

Sixswitch: Hey! Watch it!

Erik Summers: Well…look at you! Chest all puffed up, playing the big, strapping hero!

Six: Hero? Funny, people used to refer to you as such…

Summers: Funny, you seem to be under the impression that a care. You know, there was a time when I didn’t believe you were quite so stupid, but seriously, did you sustain a major head injury at some point?

Six: What the hell are you talking about?

Summers: Considering how many beatings you’ve taken at Sean’s hands, why would you ever accept another match with him?

Six: You know…you’ve got a big mouth…I’d really enjoy shutting you up.

Summers: Seems to me you’re in no position to make threats to me, you’re the one in for the beating of your life, again.

*With that insult, Sixswitch reared back and decked Summers, then continued on his way to the ring, leaving Summers holding his jaw, a sadistic grin suddenly expanding across his face.*

”The HeartBrend Kid” Sean O’Con v “The Welsh Wonder” Sixswitch

Sixshot: The following match is scheduled for one fall…

Like This Like That begins to play in the arena.

Sixshot: On his way to the ring, from Swansea, Wales, he is the Welsh Wonder, Sixswitch!

*Sixswitch makes his way to the ring, slides under the rope and looks intensely out, waiting for his long time nemesis to make his way to the ring.*

Auntie Slag: Oh my, doesn’t Mr. Switch just look fabulous?

Shrapnel: Oh, what the bloody hell are you prattling on about?

Superstar takes over and the crowd reaction switches from thunderous applause to seething hatred.

Sixshot: And now, on his way to the ring area…hailing from Southampton, England, he is The Living Legend, the Walking Wonder, the Human Highlight Reel. Record Breaker and History Maker, the Most Decorated Man in AWF, my boy, the HeartBrend Kid, Sean O’Con!

*Snapping his gum in clear contempt of both his opponent and the fans, HBK makes his way into the ring. He removes his coat and sunglasses and then tosses his gum into Sixswitch’s face.*

Auntie: OOOOH! He’s so SAUCY!

Shrapnel: You like guys spitting in your face…wait a bloody second I don’t want to know… *can be heard picking his fro*

*O’Con dives backward as the clearly irritated SS attempts to go on the offensive. The two slide to the ring, as HBK begins to skip backwards up the ramp, mocking SS the entire way up.

Auntie: SS giving chase to the fleet of foot O’Con, I’d certainly give chase to that strapping young lad!

Shrapnel: Why does that not surprise me?

*HBK flashes a large smile at SS, which confuses SS, suddenly from backstage Erik Summers blasts SS with a little Sweet Chin Music.*



Auntie: What a naughty boy…he is SOOOOO in need of a spanking!

Shrapnel: And let me venture a guess and say you’re the bloke…errr…whatever…who’d fancy a go at it?

*Summers shoots HBK a smirk, who is currently laughing heartily at how the trap worked out. HBK hoists SS up and tosses him to the waiting arms of Summers, who plants SS down hard into the steel with a Game Over.*

Auntie: OOOH! How nasty!

Shrapnel: And damn effective! That should teach the Welsh a lesson, how’s my hair?

*The camera cuts out as Summers and O’Con are shown gleaming over the fallen Sixswitch.*

Commercial Break featuring adds for the new Serial Slackaz clock radio and the Archivemania 4 DVD


We are outside Divebomb’s locker room as Lisa Lovelace approaches and address the camera.

LL: Well we are here outside of the Intercontinental Champions locker room where he is getting ready for his up coming title defense against what some might say is his toughest opponent yet. Let’s see if we can get a word from him.

Lisa knocks on the door and after a few short moments the door opens and a billow of grey smoke rushes out and Divebomb slowly steps out of his locker room without letting the camera see inside.

DB: Oh hey Lisa, how’s it going?

Lisa gives him a puzzled look then continues.

LL: What is going on in there?

DB: Oh that, that is nothing. Just having a little fun.

LL :Alright, umm…Tonight you face what some call your toughest opponent. Morpheus. How are you going to handle him.

Divebomb smiles and stifles a laugh.

DB: Oh Lisa, I am just going to be myself. He is just like any other opponent trying to take my title, even if he is a little more demented than most. But don’t worry, I won’t lose.

LL: Yeah, about that. You said that if you win tonight that you would have a surprise for the AWF.

DB: Yup and that hasn’t changed.

LL: Can you give us any sort of hint as to what it might be.

DB: Oh, I could but then it wouldn’t be much of a surprise. But don’t worry, when I win tonight the entire AWF will get to see what my surprise is. And trust me, it won’t disappoint.

LL: Alright. Well I better let you go. You have a big match coming up.

DB: Indeed I do. I’ll see you later and for everyone not at ringside. Make sure you are near a monitor at The End of my match.


AS: Oh it sounds like Divebomb is very confident tonight.
SH: Yeah well that won’t last once the match starts.
AS: We’ll see. But I think they are ready to start so let’s send it to the ever vibrant Sixshot.

AWF Intercontinental Title:
Divebomb© v. Morpheus

“Moonlight Sonata” begins to play as the murder inc member makes his way out from the back and onto the stage where an unappreciative crowd boos relentlessly.

Sixshot: Ladies and Gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the AWF Intercontinental Title. Introducing first from the minds of innocent children……..MORPHEUS!

Morpheus skulks his way down to the ring and enters. He drops to the mat and begins pulling out his hair.

AS: Eww…He is hideous. I wonder what he hides under that mask.
SH: I don’t know but he even gives me the creeps and he’s part of murder inc. Bloody hell, I like murder inc, but I just don’t know about him.
AS: Bunch of thugs. Did you see what they did to Auros tonight?
SH: Yeah that was brilliant.
AS: You would think so.

Just then, the sounds of Beethoven fade and Killswitch Engage’s “My Last Serenade” takes over.

SH: Oh bloody hell. Tell me one thing, how does a man that turns his back on every friend he has end up coming out here week in and week out with the IC title around his waist and actually have the fans start cheering for him.
AS: I don’t know. He was a bad boy and made a mistake. Now I think he has made up for it.
SH: And what the hell do you think his announcement is going to be.
AS: Don’t know, but we are only going to find out if he wins, so cross your fingers.
SH: Not bloody likely. I hope the freak takes his title.

Just then Divebomb emerges from the back and the fans disapproving boos turn into cheers. Divebomb stops and a smirk come over his face as he throws his arms out and poses for the crowd.

Sixshot: And his opponent, the IC champion from Burnaby, BC……DIVEBOMB!

The cheers grow a bit and Divebomb continues to the ring. He climbs in and poses on the turnbuckle with his title. After a few moments Divebomb hops off the turnbuckle and passes his title over to referee McClintock and the bell sounds to start off the match. Divebomb gives a weary look as his opponent gets to his feet.

AS: Divebomb is in for a fight tonight I think.
SH: You better bloody believe it. He’s got a former world champ in there with him.
AS: And a nasty one at that.

The two men start to circle the ring. Divebomb moves in for a tie up but the former champ quickly sidesteps the attempt and staggers him with a quick punch. Divebomb shakes it off and gives Morpheus an angry look then goes for it again. This time they tie up but before Divebomb can manage to do anything with it Morpheus whips him into the ropes and drops him to the mat with a back body drop. Divebomb glares up at his opponent from the mat and quickly gets back up and shakes it off.

AS: I think he’s in trouble.
SH: I told you he would be.
AS: But I don’t think you should count him out yet.
SH: Might as well. He is going to lose.

Divebomb begins to circle again when suddenly Morpheus charges and levels him with a clothesline then drops down to the mat and slams his fist into Divebomb's head repeatedly. McClintock admonishes him for using the closed fist but Morpheus shrugs it off and drops back onto Divebomb, locking in a blatant chokehold.

AS: Oh, now he’s just cheating.
SH: And it is just so bloody beautiful.

McClintock quickly moves in and begins counting. Morpheus hold on as long as he can but eventually breaks the hold at four and McClintock begins to berate him for the illegal move as Divebomb gasps for air. After a moment Morpheus shrugs off the assault from McClintock and locks in the choke hold again. McClintock moves in and counts to four then forcibly drags Morpheus away from Divebomb. Morpheus looks like he’s about to snap on the ref but then just pushes him out of the way and drags Divebomb to his feet and whips him into the corner.

AS: Such anger from that man. It’s not healthy.
SH: Worry about being healthy when you’re dead. How’s my hair?
AS: Puffy.
SH: Good.

Morpheus slams into Divebomb with a running clothesline and back away as Divebomb falls to the mat. Morpheus sees him seated on the mat and even under the mask you can see a grin form on his face. He back to the other corner and charges, slamming his knee into Divebomb's head. Divebomb’s head recoils and he falls flat to the mat. Morpheus goes for the quick cover but at two, Divebomb manages to get a hand on the ropes breaking the count.

SH: Ha! Almost over there.
AS: And I think the creepy one want to end it now.
SH: Oh bloody right.

Morpheus back away and signals to the crowd for his finisher. The crowd begins to boo him again as Divebomb slowly starts to stir.

AS: Oh I think the champ is about to get a spanking.
SH: What is it with you and spank….Never mind. I don’t want to know.

Divebomb gets to his feet and turns around and is met by a kick to the gut that doubles him over. Morpheus quickly looks in the double under hook.

SH: Anesthesis here we come.
AS: I think your right.

Morpheus hesitates for a moment then goes to drop Divebomb head first to the mat but at the last possible second Divebomb spins out of it and drives a boot into Morpheus’s gut and drops him with a DDT.

SH: Bollocks. Bloody hell.
AS: And it’s not over.

Divebomb slowly starts to get to his feet as Morpheus begins pounding his head on the mat and pulling out his hair. They both manage to get to their feet at the same time and the two fighters begin trading punches.

AS: Finally the champ shows some life.
SH: Finally? This match should have been over long ago so I could get back to fixing my hair.
AS: You and your hair.

After a short exchange Morpheus begins to get the upperhand but when he goes to whip Divebomb into the ropes, Divebomb reverses it and slams him into the mat with a spinebuster. Divebomb quickly drops onto Morpheus’s head with a knee drop then locks in the rings of Saturn. Morpheus instinctively begins to scramble and after a few excruciating seconds manages to get a foot on the ropes. Referee McClintock quickly moves in and forces Divebomb to break the hold.

AS: Only a bit further from the ropes and he might have had it there.
SH: He would have hair like this before he could have gotten that win. By the way, how’s the hair looking?
AS: Oh boy…..

Divebomb scrambles to his feet just in time to turn and see Morpheus banging his head on the mat. Divebomb gives him a questioning look then quickly charges and hits him with a drop kick to the ribs that send Morpheus crashing to the floor on the outside of the ring. Divebomb climbs out after him and drags Morpheus to his feet and slams him to the floor with a snap suplex.

AS: Oh, Divebomb being forceful now.
SH: Yeah and I bet its turning you on you sick freak.
AS: Hey there’s no need for hurtful words.
SH: Bloody Hell…

Divebomb throws Morpheus back into the ring and quickly climbs in as the crowd begins to cheer for him. Divebomb gives a short pose acknowledging the fans then quickly goes back to work on Morpheus. Divebomb lands a few quick elbow drops to the back then locks in the Rings of Saturn. Morpheus begins to scream as Divebomb wrenches back on the hold.

AS: Oh I think Divebomb has him this time.
SH: Maybe.

Suddenly the camera goes to a split screen. One showing Divebomb with the hold applied on Morpheus and the other showing Lock and Scarecrow watching a monitor in the back when suddenly Lock makes a motion towards Scarecrow. Suddenly the Murder Inc rookie runs out of the room and a moment later Crow comes running out from the back and down the ramp.

SH: Oh yeah, this is gonna be good.
AS: What is he doing out here?
SH: What do you think?

The screen goes back to normal showing crow running down the ramp. Back in the ring Divebomb releases the hold and gets to his feet just in time to duck under a clothesline attempt by Crow. Divebomb whirls around and slams a fist into Crows cheek quickly followed by another and another. Divebomb continues to punch forcing Crow back into the ropes. Divebomb whips him across the ring and ducks another clothesline attempt on the rebound. Crow rebounds again and Divebomb quickly grabs him by the back of the head and throws him over the tope ropes.

AS: Looks like Divebomb had that one scouted.
SH: Not quite.

Just as Shrapnel manages to get that out, Morpheus get to his feet. Divebomb finishes yelling at Crow and turns around only to be met by a boot to the gut and a quick double arm DDT.

SH: Anesthesis. Morpheus has got him.
AS: Referee McClintock moving in now. Making the count. 1….2….
SH: New Champ!
AS: NO! Divebomb kicked out. Divebomb got the shoulder up.
SH: Oh bollocks.

Morpheus gets back to his feet and gets in McClintock’s face complaining that it should have been three. McClintock doesn’t back down as he explains that Divebomb managed to get his shoulder up. After a few moments Morpheus seem to accept the decision and begins to stalk his now stirring opponent. The crowd is on its feet as Divebomb manages to get to his feet and begins to turn around.

AS: Divebomb up…
SH: Morpheus is going for it again.

Morpheus drives the boot into Divebomb’s gut again and quickly hooks his arms. An odd grin comes across his face as he gets ready to plant the IC champ again, but with the moment of hesitation Divebomb manages to catch his breath and quickly pulls one arm free and twist his body and in one smooth motion picks Morpheus up onto his shoulders. The crowd erupts as Divebomb looks to be going for his finisher. Divebomb grins and tosses Morpheus’s feet out and drops.

AS: The End! Divebomb hit The End.
SH: Come off it. I tell you Crow had better do something now.

Divebomb drapes an arm over his downed opponent but before McClintock can make the count Scarecrow jumps up onto the apron. McClintock rushes over and begins yelling at him to get down. After a moment Divebomb manages to lift his head and sees Crow on the apron and abandons the pin attempt. He gets to his feet and charges at Crow. Going right over McClintock’s head Divebomb manages to catch Crow with a haymaker that send the distraction crashing to the mat. Divebomb turns around and sees Morpheus just getting to his feet. Morpheus rushes at the IC champ.

AS: Morpheus going for a knee strike and Divebomb with the side step….Morpheus bouncing off the ropes and…..Gargoyle Suplex. Divebomb hit a gargoyle suplex.
SH: Lock should send out Wild One to help out.
AS: Divebomb looks pumped now.
SH: And it turns you on doesn’t it. You are sick.
AS: Maybe it does.
SH: Bloody Hell! You didn’t have to say that.

Divebomb flashes the crowd a quick sign as they cheer then quickly climbs the ropes. On the top he poses one more time for the crowd then leaps off. With a quick last second flip in the air Divebomb comes crashing down on the prone Morpheus as the crowd’s cheers seem to get louder.

AS: Ground Zero! And this time there is now one out here to stop the pin.
SH: Damn it.
AS: McClintock with the count and…Divebomb has done it. Divebomb retains the IC title and you know what that means.
SH: Yeah, Divebomb’s surprise for the AWF. Great.

Divebomb staggers to his feet holding his head as McClintock hands him his belt and raises his hand.

Sixshot: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of the match and STILL your AWF Intercontinental champion…..DIVEBOMB!

Divebomb raises his belt as the fans actually cheer loudly for him. After a few moments he casually walks over to the ropes and grabs a mic then walks to the center of the ring.

DB: Well I promised you a surprise. This is something I have been waiting for, for awhile now and it’s something that might just shake things up a bit around here. So without any…

Just then Crow jumps into the ring and clubs Divebomb from behind. Divebomb falls hard to the mat as Crow begins to stomp away. After a few moments Morpheus gets back to his feet and Crow drags Divebomb up holding him for his teammate.

AS: Oh this is not good. These nasty little boys should be punished for this.
SH: What the bloody hell are you talking about. This is beautiful.
AS: Someone should come out here and stop this…

Suddenly someone burst out from the back and streaks down to the ring. He slides in with ease and quickly takes down Morpheus with a clothesline and turns and drops Crow with a hard right hand. He turns just in time to see Morpheus getting up and quickly sends him over the tops ropes with a dropkick.

AS: Oh my god! It’s Prowl?
SH: What in the bloody hell is going on here.
AS: It looks like P? is out here to save his partner.

He quickly moves over and drags Crow to his feet and whips him into the ropes.

AS: Crow off the ropes and…..The ‘Mark. P? with the mark on Crow and Divebomb is perched on the top ropes.
SH: What’s he doing now.
AS: I think he’s signaling to P? to pick him up.
SH: This can’t be good.

P? drags Crow up and hoists him up on his shoulders in the electric chair position. Divebomb gives the crowd a quick pose then leaps.

AS: Doomsday Device. Divebomb and P? with the Doomsday device.
SH: Ah crap.

Divebomb connects with a hard clothesline that sends Crow flying off of P?’s shoulders and crashing to the mat. Quickly the NWA team mates are on their feet and full of energy as Morpheus begins to drag himself up. Without a thought P? grabs hold and hoists Morpheus into the air and drops as Divebomb grabs Morpheus by the head.

AS: And now a 3D on Morpheus. The NWA are in complete control.
SH: Please don’t say that name.
AS: Well they are and they have just taken out two members of murder Inc.

With that Divebomb gets back to his feet and grabs the mic again as P? kicks Morpheus out of the ring.

DB: Well I told you I had a surprise didn’t I. Ladies and Gentlemen, say hello to the N…..W….A!

Divebomb drops the mic and climbs one of the turnbuckles. He turns to see P? standing on the adjacent one and both men begins to pose for the crowd.

AS: Well this has been a great show but its time for us to go. From me, Auntie Slag, and my fellow announcer, Shrapnel, I hope you have an interesting night.
SH: Oh bloody hell….

The show closes with a shot of P? and Divebomb standing on the turnbuckles posing for the crowd as the sounds of “P.I.M.P” blare through out the arena.

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Post by Ignavus » Fri Jun 10, 2005 6:55 am

The following is an official notice of sex change:

Due to an unfortunate accident involving his genetalia, Joshua Q. Ignavus, from this point known as Party A, is legally obligated to register himself as a woman.

Heretofore Party A will be known no longer as Joshua Q. Ignavus but instead as Jane G. Ignalla.

All employing parties should be known. A picture of Party A will be included after the surgery, including the new blonde wig and breast augementation surgery.

Thank you,
Dr. Neil Payne
Ignavus wakes up from that dream on top of a hospital bed, all naked but for a very akward bandage over his crotch-ular area.


He gropes himself through the bandages to make sure it's all still there. A sigh of relief tells us it's probably okay.

He turns to the camera.

"Seriously... that was the weirdest thing I have ever participated in. And I went to D-Ex's Batmitzvah... and he's neither a teenage girl nor Jewish..."

He pauses, and scratches himself through the bandage. After rolling around in pain on the ground and cursing a whole lot more for a few minutes he probably learned his lesson not to touch that for awhile. He takes a calming breath, and continues.

"But I think we've now officially beaten W1 and Auros. We've actually beaten them so, so bad they don't even exist anymore. Hell, I can take half the credit for that, and I wasn't even in the match. Good goin D-Ex! Slacka Powa!"

He scratches himself again, and once again he rolls around in pain. He apparently doesn't learn quickly. Once that's done, again, he continues.

"The bad news for us is the NWA's return. That's very, very bad news for us. The dissapearence of P? and the split up of Blood and Thunder created an opportunity that D-Ex and I grabbed. We were able to get titles without doing much work... Hooray! But now? Now... I guess we're gonna be all challenged and stuff. DAMMIT!"

He waits for a second.

"Now if only D-Ex would come pick me up... and bring some clothes..."

He waits for a second more.

"Or not. I'm actually okay with this."
"Trying is the first step towards failure" ~ H. Simpson

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Post by Extreme_Kup » Fri Jun 10, 2005 8:15 am

OOC: Hahaha..nice comeback! I like that match with me and Auros. Even though it makes me remember that match of n sync vs D Next due to the jet pack thing. I dunno why, but it kinda makes me remember that match for some reason.


hours after the show...

*D-Extreme is seen sitting on a chair while he drinks a miller lite beer. Visibly, the chair is being moved in the air as some hip hop music plays on the background. Slowly, the camera zooms out to show D-Ex's chair being lifted by several people. After a few more seconds, a jewish rabbi enters the room.

Rabbi: "Hey D-Extreme...what is this type of barmitsfa? Is it some star wars? Power Rangers?"

*D-Ex looks at him and smiles before he looks behind him. Behind him, a few good looking women are seen in bikinis. After a while, D-Ex jumps down from his seat and joins them in dancing. The rabbi just looks at him to wait for a response.


*Just then, some vocals are heard.


*Not sooner does the rest of the people inside the party room start to dance with the celebrant as well.

D-Ex: *thinking* "I know I aint that young anymore...heck, I aint jewish. Why am I here again? I KNOW I have to pick Ignavus he here?"

*D-Ex looks around for a while before he starts dancing again.

D-Ex: *Thinking* "Meh...he's probably napping here somewhere. I let him enjoy his newly found nut-less life. Ah Igz..he is a ballsy man....but since his set is gone...I will just call him a 'GUTSY MAN'! There we go"

D-Ex and Igz, your AWF Tag Team Champs. You think you got what it takes to take The Serial Slackaz on? Then join the
AWF and show us what you got!

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Re: AWF: Warzone, 09/06/05

Post by Grimlock » Fri Jun 10, 2005 10:01 am

Originally posted by AWF_Warzone
Lock: “I tell you Wild One, nothing annoys me more than people taking a good Springsteen song like Murder Inc. and not living up to it’s strong, desolate small town ways. The AWF isn’t a place for sissy’s son, it’s a death trap, it’s a suicide rap, we’ve gotta get out while were young, Cuz Wendy tramps like us, BABY WE WERE BORN TO RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN”.
Wild One: “I’m not Wendy”.
Lock: “Shut up and air guitar”.

Lock, Wendy and Morpheus air-guitar together. Sir Auros remains crushed behind them.




Now even though Morpheus got beat, it's all still good, because it's a fresh start for Murder Inc. The Lock's cleansed the trash so now it's time to kick some ass. So The Lock would formally like to welcome the newest member of Murder Inc., Scarecrow. Now see, The Lock is getting pretty pissed off waiting and sitting around for some opportunities for some gold. So the Lock is throwing out an open challenge, because The Lock feels like a warm up before he robs someone of their gold, cause whether you like it or not, The Lock is the best thing going today.
"Among those fans there's at least one guy for whom you're a hero. He saved money to see you! That's what I did. I played for that guy." - Bruce Springsteen (1987)

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Post by Ravage » Fri Jun 10, 2005 12:35 pm

OOC Classic guys classic :)

Ahh vacationing on the beachs of Mexico is a good thing. Now someone go get me another beer.

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Post by Baxter » Fri Jun 10, 2005 1:50 pm

OOC: Wonderful show guys.

Lisa Lovelace looks around the locker room for the man mountian, Baxter.

After asking if anyone's seen him, some jobber in the back mentions the gym.

So she goes there, only to realize that's the last place she'd find him.

She then realizes her folly and checks out the cafeteria.

Much to her suprise, he's not there either.

Time to call the local buffets.

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Post by Wolfang » Fri Jun 10, 2005 2:53 pm

OOC: Nice show, gents.

IC: See Tempest... that is where you wind up running your mouth at me. In the past, I've made you tap out. Tonight, I proved to you... and some of the other bitchboys who want a shot... that I can end a match at any given moment from anywhere in the arena. I suggest you- and the people looking for my belts- pay attention to that.

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Post by Xille » Fri Jun 10, 2005 5:13 pm

ooc: It's all in fun, Ravage. ;)


*Xille turns over and looks at Ravage*

X: Ravvy, that's why they have waitresses here. Just stop demanding one and politely ask. Just say "Quiero una cervesa". Oh, and ask for some "agua" for me.

*Xille sits up and dusts some of the sand off of his chest*

X: Now, I do want to comment on one thing about Warzone. And, surprisingly enough, it isn't the return of Ravvy's old buddy, Prowl?, and the reformation of the NWA. It's another annoyance, another showering of hypocrisy here in the AWF.

That's right, I'm talking about the two biggest assholes in our company today, G91 and HBK. They calim to better than you, me, the Double S, and even the X's blue-haired great-aunt Susie. Well, from what I saw tonight, the only thing they're better than is the stench that seems to come off of Ravage when he's out in the sun too long.

G91, HBK... I've faced you two before by myself. I lost, quite definitively, if I might say, but the X has gained a lot since then. And he's not afraid of taking you two on again if necessary. The X will be keeping an eye open at Mayhem, and, if necessary, he'll be ready to show you just how good he is.

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Post by Cyberstrike nTo » Fri Jun 10, 2005 8:06 pm

please respond to it even if you aren't in it, we really do need to see some of you guys start participating again. Otherwise....Well we won't go there. Enjoy.*

IC: "Otherwise I'll buy it and then I will have to show these brain dead idiots how to book a show! What a load of crap this Warzone was! My cat could book a better show!"

OOC: Not my best I know but all I can think of right now.
Good show, but does the AWF really need 4-6 different annoucers?
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Post by Xille » Fri Jun 10, 2005 8:56 pm

Originally posted by Cyberstrike nTo
OOC: Not my best I know but all I can think of right now.
Good show, but does the AWF really need 4-6 different annoucers?

I'm awfully sure we've only got the four now that the J's have retired.
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Post by Ignavus » Fri Jun 10, 2005 9:54 pm

OOC: Auntie Slag, you damn fool. Auntie Slag
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Post by Prowl? » Sat Jun 11, 2005 2:24 am

Awwwwwwww sh!t, guess who's back in the 2-5-0? Thats right, its P?, the OGB, the original Gangsta, B!tches! I have been around since the beginning of the AWF, and let me give a shout out to all you hatas, I ain't here to be no one's b!tch. The OGB is back, and I's gonna be shootin for more than just some punk ass lacky role. I see these fools running around calling themselves murder inc. Murder inc? What kind of sh!t is this? One punk running around impersonating a wannabe rapper impersonating Tupac, and the other punk impersonating a black flabby old fart who tries to impersonate an italian flabby old fart. So why all the impersonations? Are ya punks so stale that you wanna pass off on an act thats already passed off on? Well ya'll don't worry no more, cause the staleness is ends now, cause the OGB is back, the NWA is back, and the PAIN is back!

P R O W L ?
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start climbing that sh*t rope...

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Post by Ravage » Sat Jun 11, 2005 3:34 am

*OOC no problem Xille*

"Bah I can speak Spanish." with that he looks at the nearest hack that was looking at him funny.

"Tu, va chingar una vaca!" *If I remember any of my Spanish correctly that should be, "You go **** a cow." anyway*.

With that the enraged Mexican took a popshot at BDR not to his better logic as BDR quickly picked the man up and powerbombed him through a table. The mans friends get up but then decide maybe trying to fight a 7 foot 330 pount badass might be a bad idea.

"Now I realise if I ask for the beer someone will get it. I mean isn't the American dollar like one million pesos. But demanding it and putting the occisional moron through a table is fun."

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Post by Xille » Sat Jun 11, 2005 3:44 am

OOC: Igz, who in the world are you talking to?


*Xille stands, drenched in the wake of Ravage's assault.*

X: Ravage... dammit... I just bought these pants... Arg... whatever.

*Xille sits down at the broken table and begins eating some nachos. He notices Ravage standing off to the side, still seething from the powerbomb. Xille holds up his basket*

X: 'Nacho?

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Post by Amarant Odinson » Sat Jun 11, 2005 3:55 am

A camera crew drives up Spadina Ave. just pass St. Clair in Toronto. They pull up to a modest house worth about $1 million dollars in the area known as Forest Hill. As they go inside, the camera crew makes their way to a set of stairs that lead to the basement. When they arrive, the camera pans around the room. They see a various assortment of workout equipment and over in a corner, stareing at the T.V while sitting on a bench and lifting weights, is The Rabid Wolverine: Amarant Odinson.

IC: Amarant puts the weights down when he sees the camera crew walk in and turns off the T.V. Let me guess, you want to know my thoughts about the Warzone I just watched, right? Very well I only have one word to describe what I saw on that screen just now. PATHETIC!!

The fans don't want to see the Human Bull**** known as Tempest. The fans don't want to see the Burger King go up against the Peon Among Pissants known as Tapedeck yet again. They sure as hell don't want to see G91 and HBK bore us all to death week after week. But most of all, the fans don't want to see that jack*** Reilly. The fans want excitment, they want a man that can go out there and put on a +4 star match night after night. The fans want a wrestler, not an entertainer.

Reilly you can't deny the fans or myself any longer. You heard them at Archivemainia IV. You could hear the place rise up and chant my name after I made Ravage tap out, just like I said I would. You can't hold me back forever Reilly. No matter how long you keep me off the road, no matter what type of match you put me in, no matter who you put me up against, I'll still keep coming.

You throw all the money you want, but I'm not going away. You will never break me and when I finally get what I want, when get what I deserve and get another title shot and when I win that AWF World Heavyweight Title. Then and only then will you have to realize what I have always believed, you will finally understand the one constant that has been in the AWF since the day that I arrived and that is.... No one, not even you, Reilly... will ever.... PROVE ME WRONG!!

I'll see you next week.
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Post by Ignavus » Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:09 am

OOC - Cybie for foolishly questioning the glorious decision to make Auntie an announcer.
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Post by Xille » Sat Jun 11, 2005 4:12 am

ooc: I think he was just commenting on the overall number of commentators, not the fact that AS was one.
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Post by Extreme_Kup » Sat Jun 11, 2005 5:29 am

OOC: there are TWO announcers(Auntie Slag and that Betty from Igz's fed) who has a crush on my character ;) I like it!!!

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Post by Cyberstrike nTo » Sat Jun 11, 2005 11:27 am

Originally posted by Xille
I'm awfully sure we've only got the four now that the J's have retired.

OOC: I miss the Js already they were a lot easiser for me to write for. :( :(
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Post by Ravage » Sat Jun 11, 2005 12:46 pm

Ravage nodded to Xille.

"Sweet." Takes a few Nachos.

"One thing about here they make good Nachos." He sits down with his beer and cheesy chip and beings to hum "Macho Man" except as "Nacho Man".
The bunnies, they give me knowledge it is neat.

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